The Experience of the Arts at the Seminary in Hillsdale
By Shannon Young
“Paint for me, O Muse. Paint for me, O Divine Power. Direct my hands for me. Carry my soul into my hands, so that Thou canst guide the brush in my hands.” -- Homer’s The Iliad
Arriving at Hans Schumm’s studio, there is a sign on the door: “No cell phones allowed inside. Leave them in your cars. You will feel the difference.” You do feel as though you have stepped back in time. Hans Schumm’s studio is a cozy wooden building with aged wooden floors. As we enter from the cold outside, where the snow is steadily sifting down, the warmth from the large wood-burning stove and the smells of the burning wood embrace us. I feel immediately the comforts of home. The easels are arranged around a pool of light coming through a large skylight. Hans Schumm, wizened and spry, his gray hair drawn back in a pony tail, stands in the room smiling benevolently as we enter. After introductions, we get to work. Our watercolor study begins with Lemon Yellow. Hans works with calm and concentrated interest in the colors. We watch as he contemplates the page, then patiently applies the color, each careful brush stroke preceded by a pause, a thoughtful rest.
We each take up our brushes and contemplatively experience applying yellow to the center of the page before us on our separate easels. As we work, Hans moves behind us quietly, careful not to impose, to interrupt our halting efforts, except with encouragement or suggestions as needed:
“Try not to hurry it. Let the color flow out from your core. Feel the impulse.”
After a few hours: “Yes, good. You are feeling the color now. How does it feel?”
“I feel I will never experience yellow the same way again,” I respond.
At length we move from Lemon Yellow to Golden Yellow, feeling the subtle distinctions in the shades, working carefully to shade the one into the other seamlessly. One student has put too much Golden Yellow onto the center of the Lemon Yellow. Hans pauses before the painting: “Well, there it sits,” he observes good naturedly. We laugh.
At intervals, he would stand in the center of the group of us as we worked, our backs turned to him, thoughtfully working on our creations, and he would lowly intone these words from the beginning of The Iliad: “Paint for me, O Muse. Paint for me, O Divine Power. Direct my hands for me. Carry my soul into my hands, so that Thou canst guide the brush in my hands.”
Following the immersion in yellow, we move to other colors: Prussian Blue, Mauve, Vermilion, Carmine Red. He introduces each different color with careful attention to how they interact. “Yes, the blue is bashful,” he says knowingly, nodding his head. “It is difficult for the blue to enter into the yellow. It feels the shock of it. It stays around the edges.”
By Dhruva Corrigan, a student in the “Walking with Christ” program
During our two-week experience in Hans’ studio, we each come to feel penetrated by this drama of color. Steiner in the Mystery Centres Lecture II writes of “a feeling for what lies on the other side of the Threshold,” and how the painter who feels color as a “spiritual essence” can perceive how colors take their “right place on the canvas.” Hans Schumm is such a painter, and we all so appreciated his careful instruction.
Our next experience is in Laura Summer’s studio. She has written a book, Drawing Exercises to Experience the Gospel of Saint John. Laura explains how these 42 images came to her one by one as she studied the gospel. Over three days we work with three of these exercises. We read the passage from the Gospel of John, and then she takes us through the exercise to render the passage in black-and-white images. This image by Claire Jerram, a student in the “Knowing Christ” program, corresponds with John 10:18-42: “My sheep hear my voice. And I know them, and they follow me; and I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” The Jews try to stone Jesus because he makes himself to be the Son of God, but he escapes from their hands.
By Claire Jerram, a student in the “Knowing Christ” program.
The patchwork design and the white path approaching the central figure indicate the way to Christ, encompassed on either side by gradations of darkness. Likewise, the white space in the center communicates that here is Light. Though shades of darkness surround the figure, walking in the Light of Christ fortifies us against adversarial forces. Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. He who follows me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life” (John 8:12).
The next morning after working on this sketch, Tish Pierce, a student in the “Walking with Christ” program, walked out of her home and found this snowy path laid at her feet. Amazed, she snapped this photo to share with us—a miraculous reassuring message that God walks with us.
About the Author: Shannon Young, a student in the “Knowing Christ” program, is a former university English professor who now splits her time between the Seminary campus in Hillsdale, NY, and Spring Valley, NY, where she lives with her son, Giancarlo.
This is a blog entry by a student at The Seminary of the Christian Community in North America. These are posted weekly by the student editorial team of Robert Bower, Shannon Young and Faith DiVecchio. For more information about our seminary, see the rest of our website, and for even more weekly podcast and video content check out the seminary patreon page.
The views expressed in this blog entry do not necessarily represent the views of the Seminary, its directors or the Christian Community. They are the sole responsibility of its author.
